Loneliness

Loneliness

Standing in a shaky public bus,

There are very few things that seem just,

The world with SO many people,

Living in agony or peace, fright and pain,
Living on the cream and carmel, above the crust
Or the dirt collected below the sewer rust.

Curses and spite, aimed at all these humans,

Are a sign, a revelation,
Of the frustration in oneself, deep deep down,
Of the silly little mistakes in life
On, leading, to the worse bigger picture
A picture, rather grey and sombre.

Fists clench and the handles bar the brunt,
Of a turmoil inside the heart and head

Of perception, of purpose, in all aspects
On matters, not going quite right,
As the soul yearns for the missing,
Expecting an epiphany, so elusive and rare.

Brakes and momentum release the long reverie
But only momentarily, before it slips again,
Far away in corners, dark and desolate,
With only itself for company, raving on
Oh! Why in God's grace does loneliness strike?
In the busiest of places, among humongous crowds?

Lonely, desperate and idle the mind analyzes,
As roads rush by, in the foggy morning
Further it delves, in this huge dilemma
Skating in a rink, all by itself
In the symphony of soulful music, it succumbs
The destination arrives, we alight and trudge on.

-Shubham Chattopadhyay

Inspiration

Inspiration, a rather funny word,

Humorous and as important a virtue,

Lack of it, leaves one, a dud
A complete couch potato, enjoying a fondue

A word attached to so much value,

It acts during the final frontier of success
Needed, to break the creativity curfew
Without, a human, remains a mess.

From objects, inanimate, and people as such,
The places it hides, surprises us all
People search about, expecting not much
In a corner, a crevice, a rise or a fall.

In the lives of other people it hides,
Refusing to make an appearance,
At times, high in the sky it flies,
Severely testing your patience.

It's disappearance,had in a way, left me lost,
Without a fortune, without an ambition,
I raise my glass, a toast to my friend, covered in frost,
Who found me back, my dear inspiration.

-Shubham Chattopadhyay

In The Rain

The Fine Rainy Evening

Down and dusty, roadside stop
Overcast skies, dull and gray
Fading light reverberates
The honk of a car, the croak of a frog.

Ominous signs, there were none
Whoozing vehicles and roadside puddles
Lights kicked in, with pleasant surprise
Drops on the ground, ripples in the water.

Soft sounds, pitter and patter
Whish and whoosh, mutter and clutter
Running people and scooting men,
Among them stood one, right then.

Moved by the rain, observing closely
Gathering courage, blue macintosh and all
Puts her hand outside the shelter
Feels battering drops, as night gathers

Stands out arms extended
Face upwards, reflecting serenity
Runs away, into the pouring scenery
Slowly disappearing from view, one knows not where.

-Shubham Chattopadhyay

Redemption

 

(Dedicated to an organization I work with It has nearly become a second home and an extended family for me. I'm proud of me and my folks :) )

REDEMPTION

Pathless, routeless, without a way,

Without a worry to end the day

What joy we search to lead with light

Enrichment of mind, the fire blazing bright.

We rise, we fly out of your sight

Through creeks and falls, dropping with might,

Foretold, the future we donot believe

Our future, we shall create and outlive.

Naive and brainless, made out of tin
With ambitions unapplied, we walk in
Nurture and feed, the flames with coal

Mighty, we walk out, as proud souls

Darkness engulfs, yet we stand upright!
Like larks, we soar into our flight
Freedom we seek among ashes burnt
Redemption we get, action up front!

Tears

Tears
(This was born out of a desire to find the one thing common to all humans.)

Tears are, but warm water,
A result of a few reactions, people say

However miniscule the reactants maybe
The resultants, strong concoctions, unfazed.

Frozen between time and space
These droplets weigh so much
These tears, preserved, memories encase
Their significance varies as much

They speak of joy,
Of untold pain and sorrow
The loss of another, dear to our hearts
The gain of someone new.

Look my friends, look around
These things, common to all
Of common brotherhood, of lonesomeness
Of existence, so dreary.

So much tears, a melting pot
A sea of the unspoken
Shed away from the sight of the world
In a corner, dark and desolate.

The flamboyant exterior, may mean not much
If one feels their pillow at night
Into the feathers they cry and cry
Till sleep overcomes, tears in dry patches

Of these tears one stands alone
The tears of a mother
Tears of labour, tears of birth
Tears of joy counting those little fingers

These tears we shed, li'l blobs of water
Tracing the contours of our cheeks
Oh! So deep! They fall so deep!
In a well filled with quarters.

Dead in the Clearing

Dead in the Clearing

Here I lie unseen, unheard
In the middle of the huge wild wood

When the desolate world in its step falters
With a pull, straighten it I could.

All around me,rabbits and deer

Dance, like people, hares and does

A peep I take without a fear

Silent, walking on tippy toes

Far across, a gurgle sounds

The sound of gentle water,

Dashing against the rocks it found

The stream could hardly scatter

The huge trees, deny my Sun

To pierce through the canopy

The great oaks stand, like mighty guns

The ferns attempt to copy

As night falls, across the joy

Trebles of croaks, reverberate

Blue and clear, the stars foray

Things go silent, too soon, too late

The howls of wolves, chill your spine

The roars about, set goosebumps upright

Memories roll back, to imperfect times

Reminisce, clouds my sight

My last night, if this is,

I offer silent prayers,

This faltering Earth, may bleed me thus,

But remain in peace, all my peers.

-Shubham Chattopadhyay

Silence

SILENCE!

Silence is a wonderful virtue!

Upon which are built the towers of fortune.

Silence is a priceless gift

Which in history, has solved, many a rift.

Silence stands for freedom

Lost in the world, devoid of boredom.

Silence comes, from deep within a soul

In the pitch darkness, as black as coal.

Silence, is that soothing voice

Which humans hear, with or without a choice.

In silence, lies a sweet melody

Ironically, it lingers, after a tragedy.

Silence always speaks multitudes

It rests in the clam of very high altitudes.

In all cold,isolated places, frozen

Silence lies, pure and golden.

Silent, today, I am, filled with unexpressed emotions

A chemist, completely lost in his decoctions

Like the silent bird, fluttering above a banyan

Silence, silence, silence, all through the canyon.

-Shubham Chattopadhyay

The One Who Remains a Memory

The One Who Remains a Memory

Waking up to a glorious sunshine one day

I ran my hand through the moist grass covered with dew

Thoughts, running frantically out of my way

I thought,I do have friends,but,so few.

I saw my shadow, vary in length

As I sat on the rock, a silhoutte,

Thoughts,their pace set, volume gained

Meant for those who stood by me, stout.

The rays of the blazing sun,fell hard on my eyes

A cloudless, blue and chaste sky,loomed over it

I watched the horizon dazzle with colours,black orange and blue,

Thoughts, they singled out one amazing scrawny git.

The chores of the day began around me

It smelt of fresh flowers, with the buzzing bees in the air

Thoughts, focussed on this little lady, one with , a mind carefree

One who had a patient ear to lend, one, who was fair.

The roses bloomed red and bright, colours spread and fade,

The lonely swallow chirped about, hard to follow

Thoughts, they led my frivolous mind, to everything she wrote or said,

Every conversation revered, advice swam in waters so shallow.

I snapped out of the reverie, to see a train of ants,

Crawling around with food, morsels of their work, for winter,

Thoughts, they fly back, to wonderful times, of legends who have fallen

United with understanding, protecting from wear and tear.

Thus, the morning came to it's fag end, the heat so harsh,

I started the strut back home,slow steps reluctant,so old

Thoughts, they couldn't tell me as we drift away, hoping for the best,

What the day beholds and how the future shall unfold.

-Shubham Chattopadhyay

Life With Hens

   

Life with Hens 

(written for kids basically ?:^D)
 

One fine day, I picked up an egg

Wondering what it was

From which we get omlette dregs?

I turned it around, the oval very white,

The bottom so flat, and the top so slight.

I asked my mother,

What it was and where it had come from,

I was pleasantly shocked,

To know it fell out an hen,

Over well stocked!

My mother explained,

The story of the albumen and the yolk

Hearing it I wondered if this, knew the other folk!

I further enquired, what happened to an egg later?

The story yet to come, the end would be better.

I had this chance, to visit an old farm

I entered the coop, Wow, was it warm

I sat and watched,

Some eggs shaked, so lightly,

From a few of them emerged, beaks so tiny.

The clucking mothers helped remove,

The stuck eggshells,

The yellow bodied chicks went gamboling around,

Me, in the middle surrounded

By squails and squacks, so loud.

I asked the farmer, a Joe, if he knew the outcome,

He pointed at the seeds,

And the the cock sitting on the drum.

I saw the chicks, pecking at the feed

Replaced them with more,

Very satisfied with my deed.

The cock with his hens,

Trudged and trotted along ,

That is what they become, when age chicks gain

In all the cacophony,

Only cock-a-doodle-doo seemed like a song! -Shubham Chattopadhyay

Demons of The Mind

Demons of The Mind!

Looking at the bright blue sky I feel

Life is a rather leech like ordeal

When was it, my fate God sealed?

With whom did he make this rather strange deal?

With the burden of sorrow, rather low I kneel.

Looking at these roads which never end

It's a glee whenever they offer an unexpected bend

The distance always grows by furlongs, my friend

On these streets, rolling was I sent

My fate, it is I often seek to mend.

Among the clouds, shapes I often trace,

At night, among the constellations, rather like my face

Lost am I, in the world's wide maze

The frown,I find, even in my shoe lace

Why? Oh! Why? Do I feel the daze?

Your highness, up there, do you ever see down?

Do you ever think about the people, in misery, drowned?

Alone in a corner these folks are found

An unexpected joy for me, when friends surround

Yet, so often, I remain buried under the ground.

Craziness, of life, the things it makes you say,

Things surprising, It can never happen in the dream of day

Dilemma astounds, left to right the mind sways,

The murky past and the invisible future,all so gray,

These demons of the mind however my friend,

Are always born to be slayed.

Shubham Chattopadhyay

Slow Down!

SLOW DOWN

Ahoy! There mate!

You seem to make a lot of haste

It may seem just a play of fate

Do not let it all go to waste!

Run Just Run

The world is full of fun

Of which you know none

Do indulge in humor and pun!

You are afraid of scorn

And perceive it as a thorn

You get up every single morn

Worry,hurry and forget your bowl of corn!

Its time to stop thee

With delight and glee

Look back at the huge tree

And learn to fly like the birds who are free!

Vacation and rest

Bring you to the zenith of your quest

The world's a big wild fest

Lest you believe the rest is a test

But trust me, it's only for the best

Once in a while you've got to slow down

Completely remove the crease and the frown

Wear a big shiny smile like a golden crown

and never again will you look back down!

Shubham Chattopadhyay

The Fall of a Kingdom!

The Fall of a Kingdom

There was once a time,

When I was king,

And the world was mine.

The twangs of bows and arrows,

Made disappear,

All my sorrows.

I lived and unhesitatingly lied,

To win over the people,

Whose hearts were mystified.

I was revered by the very Nature and Earth,

The wood from its best trees,

warmed during winter,

My chaste hearth.

My court was large and titanic,

With learned people from far and wide,

It appeared beautiful and majestic.

Songs of my courage and valour were sung,

By minstrels and bards,

And the village children carrying dung.

Mighty I was, also proud and vain,

Was looked up to by my peers,

With respect and hidden disdain.

Thus I ruled for a few years,

But,for an incident,

Which turned around my fears.

My castle was set on fire,

By enemies, and foes,

Who immediately bore the crucible of my ire.

However,I came back home only to find,

My dear ones burnt,

To ashes,to ashes,

Me,left alone physically and in mind.

By overbearing grief,I was overtaken,

My jesters and ministers,

At this worried and shaken,

My kingdom cried at my plight,

But their suffering was by no means like mine,

It was,as though,my soul

To the Devil,had taken flight.

On that very day,I lost all aggression,

In front of an empire,I swore,

Never to touch another weapon.

In a few days I had aged,

So many decades,I feared,

I would die in this misery, completely caged.

I watched everything disinterested,

While my kingdom fell,

To mutiny and invasion,

That was the chance for which some had waited,

Me?What would I do caught in this wild dream?

Everything was a haze,

Besides watching my family scream.

I was simply good for nothing,

I wondered,after all,

was life worth living?

I went to my room,

On the day my enemies charged the citadel,In full battle ware,

Looked at myself in the mirror,

Drew out my gleaming sword,which,

For others had always spelt doom,

Passed it right through my heart,

Which was to say completely bare.

There was once a time,

When I was king,

And the world was mine!

-Shubham Chattopadhyay